Original Sin
by SenshiAlchemist
Summary: And even though he couldn’t stay he knew he’d never let her go. She would never be anyone else’s for he wouldn’t allow it. She was his and his alone. EdxWinry.


**Word Count:** 1829  
**Rating:** T  
**Pairing:** EdWin  
**Setting:** None, really. More manga than anime though, for sure.  
**Disclaimer:** I own nothing. Just an obsession with EdWin.

**Author's Note:** Origianlly written for the 'Sin' open word contest on fma_fic_contest at livejournal. I titled it, 'Shudder,' but seeing as how I have another song of that name that I actually didn't use here, I decided to change it. I like this better anyway.

Nyeh… I don't know what this is. Honestly. Oh, and the lyrics are from one of my own songs in this, so I suppose it's _kind of_ like a songfic? But it's all original I promise. Here goes:

* * *

_**Original Sin**_

* * *

_Now I realise, now I begin  
To see that you're my greatest sin_

He loved the way she ran her fingers through his hair.

_I look at you, and take you in  
Make me dizzy, make me spin_

He soon came to the striking realisation that… now that they were here, he had no idea what to do. It felt like he had wanted her for so long… he had, really. She made him feel so small and unsure, now. She made his heart beat fast and his breath quicken, and he had to pull away from her just to be able to look in her eyes, to see if maybe she was just as scared as he was. In this dark room the world was black and white and grey, except for her sapphire eyes and the red of his coat she kept close to them now… Her eyes were the sea, blue and tumultuous and something he could get lost in. After trying to look in both of them at once for a few seconds, his own eyes ran up to her now messy bangs. He smiled and let out somewhat of a chuckle even though he was panting a little – they weren't moving, but for some reason, he felt like he couldn't breathe.

He moved a few strands of blonde hair to the side of her face, to look at her better. A smirk crept up the side of his mouth as his right hand crept up her left arm. He grabbed her hand with his own and pulled it down towards his face. He kissed it gently, closing his eyes to savour the new sensation. When he opened them again, she was smiling at him with bright eyes. He hoped they were supposed to be that shiny up close, and not because there were tears in them. She was so pretty he had to swallow out of nervousness. What were they getting into?

After moving her hand back to being entwined around his neck – where it was _supposed_ to be, he had decided – he put his hand on her cheek. And suddenly, passionately, he kissed her again, because he couldn't take it anymore, he couldn't take not having his lips on hers when they had just discovered they could do this, they could be this close and he could touch her and taste her and hold her tightly to him so that she couldn't get away - even though he knew _he_ was going to be the one to leave next.

_This is not catastrophe…_

Then there came a time, in all of this, that they both pulled apart just enough to breathe the same breath, each other's breath, and he relished the moment. She was soft touches and good smells; at the moment, she was everything. Mere milliseconds passed before he had to return to kissing her. This was new, and scary, but in a good way, he supposed... And in a bad one. This was so terribly amazing, and yet, so amazingly terrible.

_This, my dear, is you and me…_

She was perfection, and it made him angry. Sometimes he just couldn't stand how human she was, but still she was able to be so optimistic. She had gone through so much loss, and he had done so much to her, in doing so little _for_ her. He hated it when she cried, but even after she did she always came to this conclusion that happy times were ahead and just how could she always have so much fucking hope? He wanted to take it away from her, but damn it all, she had enough to give to him already, and enough to give to the rest of the world on top of that.

He loved the way she always made him feel hopeful.

_This is not catastrophe…_

This was wrong, he was sure, because he wanted her so badly he couldn't stop himself. She tasted so sweet and looked up at him with so much care he couldn't stand it. She was cautious and gentle, and kissed him like she meant it. (She did.) It felt too good to have her body this close to his… It stimulated him, and he enjoyed it but he shouldn't because they shouldn't be together; she was so wholesome and untainted even with all of the tribulations and sorrows she'd overcome, and he was not for her. She was in so many ways, untouchable… He thought, in tasting her, he must have tasted innocence in its purest form. She was not on his level, and the residual guilt from that thought came out from him in a strange mumble he couldn't coherently utter, what with his lips being on hers.

He wanted more than just their lips to be touching.

_This, my dear, is you and me._

This was all a lie. It had to be, because it was too good to be true. He was lying to her just by being here, as if being here with her was something he could always do.

_There is reason for this, you see_

Playfully, she let her hands crawl under his shirt and up his back, and scratched it lightly all the way down. It gave him a strange sensation, making him shudder, but he had no complaints. He didn't mind, either, when she went back outside his shirt and grabbed it right under the collar, pulling him even closer. His arms wrapped around her even firmer in response.

And even though he couldn't stay he knew he'd never let her go. She would never be anyone else's for he wouldn't allow it. She was his and his alone.

_It's what I wanted us to be_

He could never get enough of this. He didn't know how he'd get anything else done, because now he knew he'd always come back to her for more. He would search her out, and wait in anxious trepidation for her again. He shakily ran his hands over her stomach, aching to slide them elsewhere on her body but being too afraid to do so. He loved the sensation of having his hands on her skin.

_Don't let me go, don't leave this now  
Let this be something you allow_

He never wanted to do anything else. He could lie here with her all day.

_I will not, I will not ruin you  
__You are, you are part of this too_

No, this wasn't wrong. Everyone _else_ must be in the wrong, not him. He despised them, all the people who made it harder to be with her. All the threats made upon her from empty souls and all the distractions that pushed him farther away from her every day would suffer from his vengence.

He kissed her neck, trying to be as caring and gentle with her as she was with him.

_This is not catastrophe,  
__This, my dear, is you and me._

Her fingers had somehow found their way back into his hair. He liked it. He liked her.

While he was busy taking her in, in idea and in actual presence, one of her hands went back around his neck and she whispered to him.

"I love you," she said with a new and frightened understanding.

He stopped and pulled away, his head swimming. What did she say?

She looked at him with an odd mixture of fear and fervor as he propped himself up on his palms instead of his elbows to see her more clearly. "I love you… Edward." She said, assuredly.

His mouth parted open slightly. She was every deadly sin; everything forbidden and un-allowed. She was an exhibit he should only have admired, and every vice of the enneagram to him. This was crazy. He didn't know what to say.

And then she sat up, making her face level with his, and took each of his hands in her own. She kissed them both, one at a time, to return the favour he'd paid her earlier… And then it came to him. She'd kissed _both _of his hands. While lying here with her, he had completely forgotten about his prosthetic limbs. He felt whole, like he was completely human, and not made of metal. And when she said she loved him, she meant _him_, not the automail she'd made for him. She loved him with or without it.

She could be his fear, his envy, his lust and deceit and avarice. He could be a selfish sybarite and never get enough of her and laze around with her and rage at everyone else for not allowing him to do so, but with _them, _together, there could be no _pride_. He had had no desire to be better than others, just to be equal to them as a human, as someone made of flesh and blood.

Now, he just wanted to be good enough for her, and she had just told him that he already was.

"I… love you too." He said.

He was surprised after saying it, for it had come out without his thinking. (Or his permission, for that matter! Stupid mouth.) He was even more surprised, however, to immediately find that it was true after it had escaped him.

He loved her blue eyes and blonde hair, although he'd love her without them. He loved the little noises of frustration she made when she was working, although he'd still love her if she didn't make them. He loved it when she was singing to herself, not always realising that it was loud enough for others to hear, and how awkward she looked when she realised people _could_ hear. Although, to be fair, he'd love her even if she couldn't sing to save her life.

He loved the soft bites she left on his shoulder and all the little things she did to him.

He loved the way she both took care of him, and yet let him take care of himself.

He loved the fact that he had no idea why he loved her in the first place.

He cocked his head a little and let his lips form a smile as he pondered what had just happened, and ran metal fingers through her hair to repay the favour she'd given him earlier. He kissed her forehead and she pulled him back down to her. He hung his face down over hers, letting it linger a bit before she leaned up and kissed him again. He laughed softly at the wonderfulness of it all. "Hmmmwhat?" She talked to him through the kiss, a feat he didn't know they could perform, but it felt good to do both at the same time and he decided it should happen more often.

"Hnnothing…" he responded, drawing her closer once more.

_Now with your hands upon my skin,_

_I see... You could never be my sin._

He loved the way she ran her fingers through his hair.

* * *

_**end**_

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End file.
